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[Ardas]

General Terryn nodded in reply to Hoffenburg. "Were the circumstances any different, I would take charge, however, I cannot claim to be responsible for our victory here." Despite her composure, it was visible that she was still on the edge. "Hoffenburg, you performed the best of all of us, I think you are a suitable man to be the commander, if there are no objections. I shall remain the chief of staff for the army..."

Her words were interrupted by the swinging doors of the refectory being opened.

Flavia was as stunned as the rest, seeing a man waltz in into the chamber and announce himself to be yet another scion of the Sigurdson line. She managed ot keep her composure, however phenomenal the news was. She seemingly overlooked his entrance as well, with the army seemingly in enough shock after the 'victory' to have let him into the castle.

Flavia took couple of steps towards him, sizing him up and down. He was not unimpressive by any standard, however, he was far from being someone she would see as interesting.

"This is first time I hear of Erika having any relatives of such kind." She replied tersely. " I don't know if you speak truth, but I can inform Her Highness that a long lost nephew, decided to join her and wants to see her."

She then turned to the lizard man. Flavia was never fond of him, and his hissing always seemed to raise the hair of her neck, even though she never showed it.

"I believe that interrogation of the captured men is a good idea. As long as they are treated within reasonable limit..."

Send a message to the captured regiments: ask them if they wish to join our side with better contracts or if they would like to remain prisoners until their ransom is paid for.

Attempt to salvage artillery.

[2] the message to join Elbrethian side is met with silence. Despite their defeat and capture, these men seemed to be almost honour-bound to fulfill their contracts. At the end of the day, they were common footsloggers and riff-raff, who do not understand the Elbrethian desire for freedom. You leave them to their fate of prisoners, and are confined in the castle's underground.
[3] The artillery is salvaged and with use of captured tools, you manage to restore 1 baterry to working condition. However ,the work is long and ardous, occupying your engineers for a better part of the week. If you wanted to do something else with these men, you aren't likely to get it done until guns are put back together.
On a good side, you have captured Prestonian cannons, which are more than enough replacement for your army. Add 2 more batteries to your salvaged 1.

To the Factor's hall!

You arrive at the foreboding building, with guards observing you, but not moving form their posts. all legitimately looking men and women were able to enter the building to conduct their business within. You were no exception. The lack of any ornamentation outside was made up by marbles and reliefs inside, all designed ot add beauty and gravity ot the chambers and state rooms. You find yourself in the front hall of the building, with men queuing at the clerk's desks, some awaiting appointments, others trying ot get their documents or book visits. Preston's bureaucratic machine worked flawlessly here, producing red tape for expanding needs of other clerks.

Interrogate the Prestoner officers for any information they have on the greater Prestoner army, the mood among Preston's high command and it's movements

[6] The shattering defeat and presence of a hatcuri as an interrogator, with his cold, lizard qualities serves as enough of an encouragement. In not too long a time they are talking about all of the major troop movements within the last 6 months, in addition to giving you a listing of the troops in the country and around it. The information however, is embedded in a ton of less important information, like gossip about generals and their mistresses, corrupt quartermasters and complaints about pay. what you find out is useful, but sparse in between lines of useless chatter about Preston army.
However, you learn vital information about military deployments within elbreth itself - the country's forces are rallied around the capital, whereas the merchant generals decided to pull back the remains to the capital around the coast. Morale was high there, but with growing losses in Elbreth, the position of the Preston there was shaky. The atmosphere in the capital itself was that of siege mentality, at least among the main officers, who slowly but surely seeped that panic into their soldiers.
You also find out that Prestonians defending Sheepstead are not far off from you in terms of numbers, although you know that whereas you have some peasant units under you, most of theirs are mercenaries. With odds still in your favour, you are wondering however....

[Iituem]

Erika broke the water, gasping for breath in the dark cavern, struggling to stay afloat by kicking her arms and legs.  The stupid uniform was clogging with water, dragging her down, but for some reason she could not manage to remove it.  She struggled against the black water, submerging twice before reaching the edge of the pool -

- where a hand caught her and dragged her up.

Erika lay, coughing out water for a time before she rolled over to face her rescuer.  She brushed damp red hair out of her eyes and squinted at the figure.

"Sigurd?" she breathed.

The figure broke into heavy, joyful laughter.  He shook his shadowed head, upon which sat a crown.

"No, by the Cycle, not Sigurd.  Come, sit, warm yourself."

The red-haired, red-bearded man gestured to a pair of benches by a warm campfire and took one of them for a seat.  Erika struggled to her knees and clambered onto the other bench, trying to achieve some measure of dignity.  She held her hands out to the fire to warm them.

"You look like Sigurd.  My brother, I mean."

"I imagine I look like your father, too.  He was a son of Sigurd as well."

Erika looked at him blankly.

"A little, yes.  Who are you, then?"

"Erik.  Just... Erik."

"Where are we?"  Erika looked around at the cavern, lit by flickering orange light, and the black water that ran through it.  There seemed to be no exit.  Perhaps she had come through a tunnel beneath the surface?

"I suppose you could call these the Shallows.  Close to the surface, but not yet immersed in the cycle again."

A few things clicked for Erika.  She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened and closed it again.  After half a minute of silence she composed herself enough to speak.

"I'm dead then, am I?  I suppose it's my own bloody fault."

"It really is, you're a sniper not a footsoldier.  Don't charge a position under fire from bloody artillery, girl, how stupid are you?"

"They needed to see me."

"I thought that, once.  But what they really need is for you to be there for them - and not right there next to them, but where it actually matters!"

"Oh, stick it where the sun doesn't shine!" said Erika, a bit of mirth lacing the sickness in her voice. "Which I suppose would be here, actually.  What's the point of berating a dead girl, anyway?"

"Well, for one thing you're not quite dead."

"What."

"Yep.  Not sure your leg's going to make it, but even stupid as you are to charge artillery, someone up there is looking out for you.  And by up there I mean down here, and by someone I mean me.  Don't get yourself killed again, you idiot, I doubt I can pull this off a second time."

"What do you mean by 'not quite dead'?"

"I told you, these are the shallows.  That lake there?  That's the cycle.  That's where you should be going.  It's where everyone does eventually.  Well, Elbrethans anyway.  I honestly have no idea what happens to the Samakhet."

"Even-"

"Even your mum and dad and your brother, yes.  And I won't lie to you, you could jump back in that lake and be with them again, at least as much as anyone does.  I suppose I could keep on waiting."

"Waiting?  How long have you been here?"

"What year is it?"

"720a."

"Then a bit under four hundred years.  I actually thought I might get to go into that lake this time."

"Four hundred years!  Well, why don't you?"

"Because the line of Sigurd must always sit on the throne of Elbreth.  Did you never pay attention in church?  That was the covenant Sigurd made with his people, that he would guide them in spirit until the world ended or they did.  So until a Sigurdson sits on the throne of Elbreth again, I can't go back to the cycle or it breaks Sigurd's word.  Dramatic fellow, that one, but some oaths bind even blood."

"So if I go into that lake, you'll just keep waiting for another Sigurdson?"

"Forever, I imagine.  You're the last one.  Well, maybe not the last last, I'm sure there are by-blows somewhere or other, or demi-semi-cousins, but you're the last pure scion of Sigurd, yes."

"So I can't, then."

"You can, I just would rather you didn't.  But if you pull this off, you'll be with them eventually one day or another.  Especially if you sire some heirs, then you won't get stuck here in the cave either."

"Really selling the throne to me, aren't you?  So if I don't go into the cycle again, how do I get back to the land of the living?"

"Pretty simple.  Wake up."

"What?"

"Wake up."

"I don't know how to do that!"

"Wake up."

"Why do you keep-"

"Wake up, it's breakfast time!  No response again, just more of that mumbling, sister.  I'm very sorry, Lord Hoffenburg's man will have to wait -"

The nurse let out a little shriek, finding Erika's hand gripped around her wrist, bloodshot green eyes staring up at her from the pillow.

"Hassir," Erika croaked.  "Get Hassir.  Water.  Crutches."

[Taricus]

Adrian seeks an appointment with either the factor or one of their officials regarding the rebels and his property.

[Digital Hellhound]

Anate Norn stared at the back of the stout Sororum nurse with a fervent wish looks could kill. The insufferable nun blocked the entrance to the future Queen's tent, and his glare was proving wholly ineffective. He supposed having seen him at his most vulnerable rather took the bite out of him as far as the nuns were concerned. They'd taken charge of her care and evidently had no intention of letting a firebrand revolutionary such as he in to visit. No, Her Grace was asleep. No, she needed rest. No, it did not change things he was a trusted advisor; in fact, the nurse's look had told him the nuns certainly didn't count him as anything close to 'trusted'.

A certain debt of gratitude kept Norn from just barging in. They had helped him get back on his feet, after all - the wounds still ached and he'd not dared take part in the battle, but he was better every day. Then again, that was their duty, and Erika had come to see him of her own free will; a much greater debt, and one he intended to repay. They said the Princess would make a full recovery, but he had to see her; he had to know. If they lost her, it would be over.

The nurse waddled inside. Norn could hear a faint female voice calling from the depths of the tent and edged forward to listen. Erika's voice, for certain, but he could make no sense of the words - perhaps she was speaking in her sleep. At least she was alive - Norn decide that was enough, for now. He listened for a moment later at the muffled voices and stood up.

He turned to leave, but the same nurse fled the tent a moment later, white-faced and practically running. She rushed past Anate without as much of a look. He stared after her, then at the open tent flap, and took his opportunity.

'Princess?' he called, stepping inside the gloom of the tent. The smell of blood and sickness hung in the air. He peered at the form on the bed, taking in a pale face and weary eyes. 'I... thought to come see how you were, if you'll have me. I can... return later, if you're not feeling well.'

[filiusenox]

Jonathan gave a short bow to Flavia, a smile gracing his features as he moved to withdraw. "Thank you my lady-- I'll be with my soldiers until then."

He stepped out, and the guards he had posted beyond the door followed as it swung shut behind him. The smile faded to a scowl as he scratched the stubble upon his face, risking a glance back. His men said not a word as they navigated the Castle-- they were good men, having been with him since the Jade Empire and that whole wretched affair. Retaining them would be important.

The smell of blood and gunpowder still hung in the air near the gate, but most of the bodies had been removed from sight, leaving only disconcerting stains that hung heavy with death. His men camped away from the main, setting their cheap and ragged tents around a makeshift ring of stones. Sitting on a wood pile, he watched a couple recruits spar in a mock melee as a sergeant, another veteran of the Jade Empire, yelled and screamed and kicked at the dirt.

Jonathan stripped his armor off, set his blade aside and snatched up a stick, drawling out to the sergeant, pleasantly. "Get yourself some rest-- You look like you need it."

"You there," Pointing with the stick at a young woman nursing a bruised arm, he continues, "You're hesitatin'. If someone comes at you with a real sword, you've lost a hand. You'll be holdin' your wonderful future children with a hook-- if you haven't bled to death."

"Now let's start again-- and if you lot hesitate to hit the other person I'll thwack you something fierce."

[micelus]

With the artillery sorted out and Hassir having made the officers pliable, there was little more to do than march for Sheepstead. It was heavily defended and would be difficult to take, but it was completely and utterly necessary to the revolution; Hoffenburg knew his men well enough. They were patriots, nationalists fighting for their country and monarch which while well and good, tended to have their morale break if they thought they were not getting anywhere. Had he had a more disciplined army, perhaps he would order a guerilla campaign, forcing Preston to divert troops into the hinterlands, allowing the main army to take Sheepstead with ease. But he would have to do with what he got....and he had an excellent idea.

...

Hoffenburg left the general staff to see the Princess; he had not seen her in some time. Opening the door with a broquet of lilacs in hand, he entered Erika's chambers. The nurses had been more than a little hesitant to let him in, but when you're the de facto regent even the ire of several middle-aged women can do nothing than slow you down.

He bowed as he saw her. "I hope your care has been adequate Princess; the sisters have not been telling me much of late and we on the council have been very worries." Anyone who knew Ambros knew quite well that he rarely visited just to check up on people.

[Deny]

Ssyrith sighed as he placed yet another page of useless information aside, it was usually good when the prisoners said more than asked, they often spilled information they otherwise would have kept to themselves. When given the correct encouragement they would rant on and on about anything they felt would be useful to save themselves from pain, but what is the name of all the spirits possessed these officers to think that information like the rumoured horse fetish of a Mrs Everyis was at all relevant or useful for this rebellion. Of course the fact they they spilled his in among all the other far more useful and functional intelligence meant he had been forced to record everything they said, which meant that now he had the arduous task of sifting through the records to sort the useful and the useless information apart from one another, it was frustrating and time consuming and made him want to torture those officers anyway, where it not for the fact that the other councilors and leaders would likely find such acts extremely distasteful.

It was whilst reading through a particularly disturbing sheet which had up till now contained yet another accusation of the quartermaster being corrupt, a complaint that he hadn't received his full pay, and a certain bankers rumored lizard fetish, which sent shivers of unease down the Hatcuri's spine. When the nun came busting into the room he was almost glad for the interruption, until another part of his mind reminded him that this just meant he would have to come back and read the whole page from start to finish as he'd lost his place on the page, resulting in a return of contempt and fury at his work being interrupted.

It then came to his attention that the nun was now just standing still waiting for him to speak, cursing to himself he realized that he must have missed what she'd said in his internal ranting, and so somewhat embarrassingly spoke up, "I'm not quite sure I understand, would you care to repeat that?" The excuse was almost cringe worthy for Ssyrith.

"Her majesty is now awake and wants to speak with you." Ssyrith raised his brow in confusion, the Princess wanted to see him? Perhaps he was just part of a larger summon, or perhaps he was being set up! He quickly pushed that thought away, that fanatic didn't yet have any reason to see Ssyrith dead, at least not by human justification, this far less dangerous environment of the humans was still going to take some getting used to.

"Very well, I am on my way." Quite frankly he was glad to have a reason to get away from this work.


Arriving to see Hoffenburg stepping out Ssyrith was yet again raised his brow, though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised to see the temporary regent speaking with the Princess. Entering the room he quickly bowed his head before standing next to the princess. "You asked for me your majesty?"

[Iituem]

Erika looked up at Norn when he entered.  She looked awful - thin, pale-faced and with bloodshot eyes, but nevertheless very much her.

"Help me into that chair," she said, nodding to a chair next to the bed.  Her throat seemed very dry. "Can't stand lying around."

With Norn's help and a certain degree of pain and effort, particularly from her injured leg, she managed to clamber into the chair.  She glanced down at the white hospital shift she had been given, specked in places with dried blood.  She looked up at Norn and clasped his hand, a dry, shaky smile on her face.

"Know this, Anate.  As a subject and a companion, I could not wish for better than you.  Although if you have gained the magical ability to restore injured limbs overnight, I shall offer you my hand in marriage!  Hell, if the Abbess had that power I'd marry her and all her sisters!"

Erika laughed, halting half way through at the pain.

"Owww.  Must have gotten some shrapnel in my chest, hurts to laugh.  Seriously, though, thank you for coming."

A nurse arrived with a jug of water and a cup, along with Baron Hoffenburg.  Erika looked up at the arrival and waved him over.

"Ah!  Lilies.  Thoughtful, if macabre, Hoffenburg.  Now all I need is Ssyrith and I can practically hold court."

The hatcuri arrived.  She took a sip of water and her voice eased a little.

"Speaking of which, thank you for attending me, Hassir.  Whilst you are all here, I wouldn't mind a report of the situation.  I just woke up, and I feel like I've been out for weeks.  I assume the battle is over - how are we doing on supplies, what advice do you have for where to head next?  Also, I should like a private word at the end, Hassir."


At the end, when the others had left...

"Hassir, thank you again for coming.  I think it is time we invested in some doubles.  I think I may need to start ruling from the shadows a bit more - or at least not charging into battle like a knight of old.  Can you find me three girls of my approximate height and size?  Red-heads or blondes so we can dye their hair.  Preferably poor, but pliable.  I think having some girls to look pretty in my stead might not be a terrible idea for the future.  What do you reckon?"

[micelus]

"I will leave Hassir to discuss any information we've uncovered but suffice to say, Castle Black is ours and we once again have artillery. We've experienced the loss of a melee regiment but in all other respects, we have taken victory...The only problem now your majesty, is Sheepstead. Though Hassir can brief you on the specifics, I can tell you that the city is well defended. We can match them currently and our morale is sufficient, but more numbers could possibly boost our chance of success. Thus, I would ask that you allow me to recruit some men from the surrounding areas...we do not have the time to train them...but their zeal may be enough to distract the enemy while our trained forces take Sheepstead. Perhaps, if you were to speak to them, we could acquire a few more peasant regiments to bolster our forces..."

[Deny]

"I can't say anything with certainty on our supplies. But as for Preston, they're in a bit of a panic right now, they have been withdrawing all their forces to Preston itself and Sheepstead, and our victories are slowly eroding their moral. In Sheepstead itself the officers are starting to panic, and the soldiers are catching on to this. They are preparing for siege.

Numbers wise Hoffenburg is correct, in Sheepstead they have forces of roughly equal number to our own, however given that they are mercenaries and they're starting to panic. I imagine it won't be hard to find someone in their ranks willing to turn on the rest."

Ssyrith thought for a moment before adding. "Oh, and a young man arrived recently claiming to be your nephew."


(After the others have left)


"I think that is an excellent plan your highness, would certainly increase your life expectancy. However implementation may be a bit of a challenge your grace, as we currently don't have that many major settlements under our command and my agents are becoming increasingly difficult to properly motivate. I will try your majesty but I am ashamed to say that I cannot promise satisfactory results at this time, once we have Sheepstead maybe but until then. Though on a side note I must point out that depending on what you wish them to do they would likely require some training to play the part, I can take care of that but it would take time."

Start searching for any peasent girls who could be disguised as Erika. Preferably blonde or red headed

[GiglameshDespair]

The Abbess had had an exhausting time. Worrying and caring after the princess; her sisters had also spent time administering to the dead and to the wounded raiders.

The princess had been her main concern, of course. It had been touch-and-go for a while - and her leg had nearly been lost. But God had provided, and the princess had worked up a short while ago, apparently, and asked for water and crutches.
Water? Yes.

Crutches?
Certainly not.

She swept back into the tent, seeing the princess on a chair and that Hassir fellow.

"Your Majesty? What's this I hear about crutches? You shouldn't even be sitting up yet, never mind walking about!"

Sisters heal the injured Raider unit.

[Ardas]

Adrian seeks an appointment with either the factor or one of their officials regarding the rebels and his property.

The factor was too busy to see you, the preparation to defend the capital picking up. However, you were granted a visit with the secretary of the Trade Council. You were surprised as to why he would even bother, but your appearance and request seemed serious enough. The idea that someone was still looking up to Preston to protect their property seemed to still some desire to show power, or maybe responsibility.

You were led along the corridors of the building, with clerks and servants either busy packing things or busy folding documents and preparing travel chests and bags. They left nothing to chance.

"Mister... Arialdi? As you know, there is a unrest out in the country, and we are trying to stem it, but there is a limited amount of forces we can expend on it. So… how can I assist you then?”

Sisters heal the injured Raider unit.

Your Sisters are efficiently patching up the wounded soldiers. As camp is made in and around the castle while the army waits for artillery to be prepared, week's long rest is more than enough for the men to recover. A week's long rest makes men restless however, but prayer and fervor stirred by the nuns is enough to keep them calm and in line.

Start searching for any peasant girls who could be disguised as Erika. Preferably blonde or red headed

[2+1] Ssyrith, your men quickly look through the surroundings and the camp to find suitable subjects. As it turns out, women that look like the Princess are in short supply, but it in the end, your agents spy a golden haired, waifish girl that seems fit for the purpose. Unfortunately for you, she wears the clothing of the Sisters. While she seems eager to fulfill her duties, it is somewhat on the borders of moral behavior for someone from the faith, and would require the permission of the Abbess.

[Taricus]

"Alright, what I want to know is what'll happen in regards to my property if the rebels take sheepstead and the surrounding territory."

[Ardas]

"Alright, what I want to know is what'll happen in regards to my property if the rebels take sheepstead and the surrounding territory."

"A very good question, one that I would like to know about too. Except not really, as there is no telling with these rebels. They are a motley bunch of zealous fanatic and nationalists, and what they could consider theirs or not is only something God alone knows. You aren't a native, Elbrethian, are you? If not, then I suggest you pack your bags and leave. Or you can wait and beg them to leave you in peace. I know for sure that a lot of Prestonians left already."

The man leaned back and sighed, rubbing the bride of his nose.

[Iituem]

Erika waved her hand distractedly at the Sister.

"The men need to see me up and walking, crutches or no.  Can't have people thinking I'm dead.  Hoffenburg, soon as we're ready to march, we march.  I'll ride in a litter until I can manage riding a horse if I have to.  I made some grave strategic errors, and it's time enough I listened to my advisors and did what we should have done two weeks ago.  Let's take Sheepstead.  We can rendezvous with the militia who were escorting that artillery unit along the way."